


Gone

by Sutured_Sentiment



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Olivarry Week 2017, Tumblr: olivarryweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 08:37:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11459970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sutured_Sentiment/pseuds/Sutured_Sentiment
Summary: He was awake, but Barry was gone. His Barry was lost to him.Olivarry Week 2017- Day Two: Memory Loss





	Gone

Over the short course of time they'd known each other, Oliver had become quite enamored with the adorable forensic scientist visiting from Central City. Barry Allen. Even his name was cute. Somehow those wide brown eyes had broken through the layer of stone he'd built around his heart.

These feelings he developed were... strange to say the least. They were irrational. He was the Arrow; billionaire playboy by day, wanted vigilante by night. He didn't have time to indulge this little  _ crush _ . But these feelings- however consuming they were- were annoyingly enough, not unpleasant. It infuriated him to no end, but he just could not stop thinking about those lanky limbs and those  _ damn _ eyes. Barry Allen had wormed his way into his heart, and he was there to stay.

Everything was going great- well, as great as it could be in Starling. Crime was down, he had his team. The city was even starting to warm up to it's masked vigilante. Everything was great... And of course that's when he got the call that would send him spiralling back into the regularly scheduled shitty program that was his life.

"Barry's in a coma." His jaw went slack and he gripped the phone tighter to his ear with shaking fingers. His brain struggled for something coherent to say.

"What," he rasped. He heard Felicity take a deep breath over the line.

"He was struck by lightning. Oliver, Barry's in a coma. They don't know when he'll wake up-  _ if _ he'll wake up. H-his heart... h-he keeps flat-lining." The phone slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground.

Of all the things that could possibly happen, Barry was  _ struck by lightning _ . A one in a million chance, and somehow he had managed to slip his way into that slot.  _ Of course _ . As if both their lives didn't suck enough; now Barry was lying in some hospital bed.

"Oliver?" He stooped down and picked up his phone.

"Sorry, Felicity. I'll call you back later, okay?" He paused.

"And thank you. Y'know... for calling." He hung up and slumped against the wall. Barry Allen was going to be the death of him.

That's how Oliver found himself in the Central City Hospital nearly every night, sitting alone in the dark with nothing but the sound of Barry's heart monitor and the thoughts in his head to keep him company. He was still wearing his Arrow uniform from his night of patrolling the streets of Starling. It had been a thankfully slow night with only a few muggings that had been quickly stopped. He hadn't bothered changing before rushing straight to Central. He treasured these few hours he had before the sun rose, bringing with it the many people that loved Barry Allen.

Barry was the same as the last time Oliver visited. And all the times before that. He was pale against the hospital sheets. He looked even smaller here, his lanky form being engulfed in the bed. His heart beat on the monitor was fast but steady, his breathing deep. On these nights, when the quiet became too much, but he couldn't bring himself to leave, Oliver often found himself talking to the unresponsive man.

There was no improvement in his condition, and they soon moved Barry to S.T.A.R. Labs. Oliver was wary of the place, but that didn't stop him from continuing his nightly visits. It was surprisingly easier to sneak into the labs than the hospital.

"C'mon, Barry. You have to wake up. Everyone's waiting for you." Nine months passed and he still got no answer. Nine months, and Oliver felt his heart sinking further with each passing day. He reached forward and grasped at Barry's limp hand, intertwining their fingers.

"Please get up.  _ Please _ . Open your eyes, Barry." As always, he got nothing in response. He bowed his head and sighed. It was hopeless. Every day Barry lay here, was another day cementing what they had all already known. Barry Allen would not wake up. He rubbed a palm over his stinging eyes. Oliver would never get to tell him how he felt. He would never get to see that wide grin, or the happy crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Those brown orbs that Oliver had come to love so much would forever be hidden behind closed lids.

He jolted out of his thoughts with a start. He looked down at the hand he was holding with wide eyes. Had he just- There it was again! Barry's long fingers twitched against his own. His eyes traveled up to the other's face and his heart leapt in his chest at the sight of lashes fluttering against cheekbones.

"Barry?" The other man groaned as he finally opened his eyes, blinking a few times in the dark. Oliver held out a steadying hand as the other struggled to sit up. Barry looked around slowly as he tried to take everything in. Oliver let him, not saying a word while he watched. He had forgotten how animated Barry's face was, had forgotten how  _ alive _ he was.

"Where am I," Barry croaked. His voice was gravelly from the months of disuse. Oliver reached for a glass of water on the table next to the bed. He had made it a point to have a fresh glass of water ready each night for when Barry finally woke up.

" Here," he said, passing the glass to him, careful not to spill. Barry eyed it warily. Oliver rolled his eyes.

"I'll explain everything, but you need to drink. You must be parched." He smiled kindly when Barry took the glass from him and lifted it to his dry lips. He gulped it down greedily.

"You've been in a coma for nine months, after you were struck by lightning and brought to the hospital." Barry's brow furrowed as he glanced around the room in confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, but Oliver beat him to it.

"You were moved to S.T.A.R. Labs a few months ago. They had better equipment to help you," he explained. Barry frowned, but nodded in somewhat understanding.

"Okay... so I was in a coma, but that doesn't explain who you are and what you're doing here." Oliver's blood ran cold.

"What?" Barry looked at him and his eyes were so open; more open than Oliver had ever seen them. They weren't haunted by a dark past. They weren't broken. They weren't guarded.

"Who are you?' No. No, this couldn't be right.

"Barry, it's me I-it's Oliver." His voice shook. Barry looked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I don't know who you are," he said quietly, and Oliver felt something inside him break. Barry was awake. He was awake and Oliver was here with him. He was awake, but Barry was gone. _His_ Barry was lost to him, a stranger sitting in his place.

He sat with him the rest of their short night together, neither saying another word, until Barry finally drifted back to sleep. He would wake up, and Oliver would be gone, off protecting his city, and wondering if he would ever see his Barry Allen again.


End file.
